


I Think I'll Have That Drink Now

by orphan_account



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, I never post here so I always forget which tags I'm supposed to do, M/M, Male Slash, Pre-Slash, Slash, gobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets stabbed and goes to Oswald's night club to get stitched up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I'll Have That Drink Now

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in a few years so I'm rusty but I just finished the first season of Gotham today and all I've wanted to do for days now is write some Gobblepot. Honestly I really haven't gotten a feel for the characters yet so I apologize that the two might seem totally OOC. I really want to rewatch the series before I write anything else with these two.
> 
> Anyway, I've read a ton of Gobblepot fics the last few days and I noticed that it's almost always Ozzy that's getting hurt and Jim patching him up and I wanted to switch that up a little bit.

He regretted it the moment he walked into the newly renovated club. How was it that he, Jim Gordon, one of the last good cops left in Gotham, was standing in the entrance of Oswald's, bleeding out on the floor. It was mid-day, around 4 pm, which luckily meant that the night club wouldn't be open for a few more hours. Jim sighed, looking around the dimly-lit club, thankfull Penguin was no where in sight yet, meaning he could still turn and leave. What was he thinking, going here of all places? He sighed once again mumbling a "forget it" to himself before turning around, gasping in pain from the stab-wound in his side.  


"Hey!" A deep voice boomed, making Jim stumble a little before grabbing his gun and spinning around. "Drop th- Gordon?" Butch said, lowering his gun as Jim did the same. "He's busy." He said, bluntly. "Busy day, you know how it is."  


"Just let him know I'm here." Jim said, gritting his teeth while trying his best to not look like he was about to pass out from blood loss.  


"He's not in a good mood." Butch warned. Jim gave him a stern look and Butch sighed. "Fine, it's your head." Butch mumbled to himself. "Hey boss, ya got company." He yelled out. "Rough day, huh?" He said, eyeing Jim's bleeding side. Jim just huffed and the pair went back to being silent until they heard gracefully uneven footsteps paired with the loud, angry, clanking of metal from the tip of an umbrella. It was evident from the walk alone that the nightclub owner was in a terrible mood.  


"Butch you know _damn_ well that I said no one is permitted to ent- J-James! Please forgive my language." Oswald stammered after realizing just who was interrupting. Oswald gave Jim a clearly forced smile before hobbling towards him, planning on walking the detective out. "Old friend as much as I enjoy your company and our little chats, now just really isn't the best time."  


Jim sighed. "Cobblepot, I..." He started.  


"Another favour?" It was now Oswalds turn to sigh. "You know this give and take relationship of ours really doesn't have any give now does it?" He said, still trying to sound polite but was clearly annoyed.  


Jim motioned at his injured side and Oswald took in a deep breath before shooting Butch an angry look. "Why didn't you tell me that my dear friend James was not only here for a visit but was hurt?" He practically hissed out.  


Butch shrugged a little. "You said not to let anyone in until the club opens."  


Oswald pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed at the fact that Butch was right. "Butch, just..." He paused a moment, leaning in to get a closer look at Jim's injury. "Bring me the first aid kit- the good one in my bottom desk drawer, not the fish hook and whiskey we used on Gabe last week. But do bring some chardonnay. Top shelf, of course." He turned his attention to Jim and gave him a more sincere smile than before. "After all, it must be five o'clock somewhere." Jim gave him his usual mocking smile, feigning politeness. "So, dear friend, how exactly did this happen? And why did you come here exactly? As I said not that I don't enjoy your company and all but my club doesn't exactly offer the best medical treatment."  


"Commissioner Loeb and the Mayor switched their alliances to Maroni." Jim said, regretting telling his present company this information.  
Oswald nodded. "Ah, good to know. So, they want you out of the picture now because?"  


Jim grunted. "Because all the other cops have gotten with the program and they seem to think I'm working with Falcone."  


"Really? Ah, thank you Butch," Oswald said, taking the alcohol and first aid kit from Butch. "You may go now."Would you like some? No man should have to get stitches sober."  


"No, I'm fine."  


"Suit yourself. So, where were we? They think you're working with Falcone? My my, James Gordon, I thought you were supposed to be Gotham's shining beacon of hope? Are you finally getting your hands dirty with the rest of us now?" He asked, grinning.  


Jim grunted. "Yeah, well, it really doesn't look too good when you're coming to the precinct and I'm coming here. We're starting to be associated together." He said, tugging off his shirt so Oswald could stitch him up.  


There was a long silence and Jim look down to see Oswald, being uncharacteristically quiet with a light twinge of pink covering his nose and ears, clearly at a loss for words. Oswald gulped and Jim couldn't help but stare at the younger mans adams apple bob shortly, right before he carefully ran his fingers lightly over the area around the wound. Jim could feel his own face heat up slightly as he watched the other man. Shit. He thought to himself. He was in a gangsters night club, bleeding out on the stool he was sitting in, waiting for the owner of said night club to stitch him up. This was most certainly not the time to be noticing the light pattern of freckles that ran across Oswald's cheeks and nose, or just how blue his damn eyes were and by God, the way his fingers felt on his side, gingerly dancing their way down to his exposed hip bone. No this was not the time to be having any of those thoughts but the moment their eyes met all reason went out the window.  


"O-oh." Oswald stammered, finally removing his hand from Jim to get his needle ready. "And that still begs the question...Why didn't you go to the hospital?" He asked, hoping Jim came because he needed him.  


"Hospital falls on Maroni's land after the latest contract. You know that, Oz." He said in a husky voice, the new nickname slipping out.  


"Right. You're right, I knew that." Oswald said, disappointed. "And your girlfriend? The Doctor. She could've fixed you up." He mumbled, making it a point to seem far more focused on stitching up the injured detective than he actually was.  


"We broke up." Jim said, figuring the pain was the reason he was being so open with the other man.  


"Oh?" That seemed to catch his attention.  


"Yeah, guess there's something about crazy ex-fiances trying to kill you that make you not want anything to do with someone."  


Oswald laughed lightly and for a moment Jim thought he actually had bled to death and was in Heaven. "Women are crazy, James. That's why I don't date women. Men. Now men are much more better suitors, my dear James. Strong, smart, righteous, men."  


The two remained in a comfortable silence until Oswald finally pulled away, admiring his handy work. "You know James, not that I particularly enjoy having people come into my club, bleeding out all over the place," He paused to give a dramatic wave at the trail of blood from the entrance to Jim's stool, "I will say I prefer you coming here for basic medical assistance." He paused again. "With Maroni owning the hospital and all. Now that isn't to say barging in here in the middle of the night wanting me to sew you arm back on is alright."  


"Yeah, I won't make it a habit. But thanks, Cobblepot. Really. I owe you."  


Oswald held his hand up. "Say no more, James. You owe me nothing. Your company was welcomed tonight after all. I must say, as usual, I'm in much higher spirits after your visit. Are you sure you don't want a drink?"  


Jim nodded a little, gingerly standing up to put his shirt back on. When he found it difficult because of the fresh stitches Oswald all but lept out of his chair to help. "By the way, I forgot to ask," Jim started, having to take a moment to collect himself when he felt Penguin's hot breath on his neck and his fingers on his bare waist. "Why were you in such a lousy mood?"  


"Ah well," Oswald said, looking up at Jim through his eyelashes, making Jim inhale sharply. "As it turns out Falcone doesn't much appreciate me giving away free alcohol." He said, fingers lacing themselves within the fabric of Jim's shirt.  


"Oh? You do that often?" Jim asked, glancing back at the expensive glass of chardonnay on the table.  


"Only to people I like." Oswald hummed out, hot breath back on Jim's neck. Jim didn't know how much more he could take.  


"So no?"  


"Most defiantly not. If anything, it's really only for you." Oswald said.  


The two stared at each others eyes for a while before Jim breathed out a short "fuck it" and crashed his lips into Oswald's. The kiss was rough with mostly just teeth and only lasted a few short moments before Jim pulled away only to find Oswald gaping at him.  


Jim panted, looking down at a gaping Penguin before really realizing had just happened.  


"I think I'll take that drink now."

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I really missed writing! Please feel free to leave comments, suggestions, etc... As I said, I really don't have a feel for the characters yet so again, I am sorry if it comes off OOC. I'm working on it, I swear!


End file.
